This Gun's For Hire (Even If We're Just Dancing In The Dark)
by potidaea
Summary: AU: Maria Hill is a criminal prosecutor in New York City. She's had a long week at work, but Nat - a stripper - is about to turn things around.
1. Chapter 1

Part of Natasha's persona is based heavily on sex work activist, Jacqueline Frances / Jacq The Stripper (ig:JacqTheStripper). Please go check out her work!

Find me on tumblr at kilyun . tumblr . com

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Maria Hill was not in the mood; she had an excruciatingly long day at court. The rape case she was prosecuting took most of the day after the defense stalled their 9 a.m. court time until 1 p.m., grasping at straws for the slimy excuse of a man on trial. There was no question if he did it, just for how many years he'd go to prison. She was _exhausted_.

So, when she finally made her way home, all she wanted was a beer and whatever was left of Monday's Chinese food. She definitely didn't want to talk to Sharon. Sharon, however, really walked to talk to her - or so it seemed clear through her four unread text messages and one missed call. When the next call came through, she picked up with a groan.

"What?"

"Well, hello to you too. Did you even look at my texts? I want to go out." The cop barreled through, used to her friend's surly demeanor after a bad day in court.

"I just got home," she complained. "I haven't even taken off my suit."

"So? Just wear it out. I haven't seen you in weeks and I heard about this gay comedy show in Brooklyn, near your place. It starts at nine and we're going."

With that, Sharon hung up.

_I guess I'm going out tonight. _

Within the hour, Sharon had barged her way into the apartment and dragged her out the door, grumbling about NYPD hours and candyass lawyers and _just drink some fucking coffee_.

As promised, it was a short walk to the bar. It was nice enough - if a little hipster with its Urban Outfitters faux-vintage decor. Even her rum and coke was in an amber-tinted highball glass straight out of an episode of The Brady Bunch. Sharon spotted the last open table - unfortunately, it was very purposefully empty because it was closest to the stage.

"Gonna need more of these if we're sitting here," Sharon sighed as she motioned to her beer.

Maria shot her a look that could only be interpreted as _Did I fucking ask to be here?_

"Relax, Hill. Worst case scenario, you have a hangover. Best case scenario, you get laid."

Soon the emcee arrived on stage - a dark-skinned butch lesbian with full tattoo sleeves and a fade that was accentuated by loose hanging dreads. She introduced the show, promising a night of gay debauchery. The next hour was filled with various U-Haul jokes, commiserations about the sheer number of couples on lesbian tinder ("I mean you've already found someone and you need to rub it in my face while I'm sad-swiping?"), and various references to veganism and/or essential oils.

They had managed to avoid the attention of the comedians - that is, until a striking redhead in a nearly see-through white crop top and skintight black jeans made her way onto the stage.

She introduced herself as simply Nat, no last name. Almost immediately she zeroed in on Maria Hill. "Ladies, did you know Bette Porter was with us tonight?"

The audience was a mixture of laughs and catcalls, for which Maria was not entirely ungrateful. Sharon was positively gleeful.

"You know, in my line of work, I usually spend too much time with men in suits. Can never spend too much time with a woman in a suit." She paused for a second to think, then added briefly, "well..." as she winked at Maria. _Unless, I'd rather be taking it off_ was left unspoken.

The comic redirected her attention to the wider audience as Maria attempted to recover from her very public undressing (not that she'd rather not being hit on by a beautiful woman, but it was still a bit much).

"Where do I meet all these suits, you ask? I'm just good with money," she smirked. "Last week I was in _the office_, and a client came in. You know, Wall Street type. He says, show me your asshole. Not my ass. The hole. And I'm like, who do you think I am, you know?" She feigns outrage. "In this post-MeToo era. Unbelievable. I have a job to do." She pauses. "So, naturally, I show him my asshole. Again, the hole not the ass. And he hands me five dollars. Personally, I think my asshole is worth at least six dollars, but hey, buyers market."

The audience laughs in a mixture of mirth and discomfort.

Maria connected the dots fairly quickly but Nat seemed intent to engage with her. She leaned over conspiratorially, whispering directly into the mic, "I'm a stripper if that was unclear, Bette."

Maria laughed, raising her glass in salute, as the rest of the audience joined her in her laughter.

Nat continued the rest of her set with various tales of the Champagne Room, the joys of being paid to step on men, and the difficulties of going home for Christmas when your family still wants you to find a man but doesn't know you spend your days being found by them. She exited the stage with a "Tip your waitress...and your local stripper! Goodnight!"

An improv group had just started on stage when a drink arrived at Maria and Sharon's table. Another rum and coke.

Maria looked at the waitress in confusion, edging on a glare she usually saved for stubborn witnesses, "I didn't order this."

"It's from the last comedian. Nat." The waitress explained nervously, motioning toward the bar.

"Oh. Thank you." She smiled politely.

Sharon's eyes lit up, "Hill! You are _so_ gonna fuck the stripper tonight."

"She's a comedian," the lawyer said diplomatically.

"Whatever," Sharon knew not to push. "Just go talk to her. I can head out. I've got an early shift."

"I'll text you? Let me know you get home safe."

"I'm a cop, Maria." They did this every time - and every time Maria just stared at her with a raised eyebrow until she relented. "Fine. I'll text you. You'll be too busy fucking to care. But I'll text you," she said walking off.

Maria rolled her eyes and picked up her fresh rum and coke, heading to the bar. Soon, she found the redhead in the far corner.

"Thanks for the drink."

"Well, thanks for humoring me, Miss Porter."

"Maria," she corrected in introduction.

"Nice to meet you, Maria," she outstretched a hand which Maria happily accepted. It was not her usual handshake. She lingered, held on delicately as she took in bright red nail polish. "Where'd your date go?"

"Oh, Sharon's just a friend," she was surprised by the blunt question. She was used to having to spell everything out - in both her professional and personal life. It was a nice change.

The redhead looked directly in her eyes as she asked, "So she wouldn't mind if I took you home tonight?"

A thick swallow. "My place is around the corner."

Soon they were stumbling through Maria's front door, her dress shirt already halfway out of her pants as Nat's hands explored through their kiss. As soon as the door closed, Maria was pinned against the door as the other woman growled in her ear, "I'm going to fuck you right here - and you're going to come so hard they'll hear you across the hall."

_Fuck_. Maria wanted so badly to give in, but she reminded herself she barely knew this woman. She shook her head. "Bedroom. Gloves."

The redhead smiled almost tenderly at her, tugging at her lapels to pull her into a deep kiss; her tongue brushing the lawyer's bottom lip, her teeth nipping the spot she had just smoothed over. "Lead the way."

Maria strode to her bedroom, unbuttoning her shirt as she went, turning around to look at the other woman as she threw her jacket and shirt on a nearby chair to reveal a black lace bra.

"Fuck, your abs," sighed Nat into a kiss, "Do you want me to dance for you?"

Maria shook her head. "No. That's not what this is." She was serious for a moment, then a wistful, "I'm sure it's fucking sexy, though," before leaning back into the kiss, pulling them both onto the bed.

Nat made quick work of her bra, nearly ripping it off before pulling a nipple into her mouth, eagerly circling with her tongue as she massaged the other breast with her hand, twisting and pinching the nipple between her fingers. Her attentions earned her soft, desperate moans from the brunette as her arousal grew. "Fuck me."

"I will, baby," she murmured into the lawyer's breast, her lips moving down her muscular stomach. Wet, open-mouthed kisses trailed across the Maria's abs, teeth scraping in rough bites that were quickly soothed by the redhead's tongue.

Her body was on fire as the dancer moved at an agonizingly slow pace, pulling out every moan she could. Her arousal was burning torturously hot. Fingers and lips lightly traced her lower abdomen and she nearly broke. "Stop teasing and _fuck me_."

The redhead didn't acknowledge her plea, only lowering her head to bump Maria's clit with her nose - shooting sparks through her whole body in the process - groaning, "God, I want to taste you."

"Top drawer," Maria said pulling the redhead up to meet her lips. "You're overdressed," she tugged at the other woman's shirt.

In mere seconds, Nat had rid herself of her crop top and bra, her breasts hanging tantalizingly in front of the brunette's face as she leaned forward to grab a dental dam and glove from the nightstand. Maria's tongue circled a nipple as Nat's hips rolled into her own. She smirked as she continued her ministrations, greeted by soft moans. She bit down experimentally to which the redhead grunted, her hips grinding down. "Fuck, Maria."

Maria blindly grabbed for the black glove that sat next to them on the bed. As much as she wanted to watch Nat between her legs, she wanted this even more. Finally successful, she shoved a gloved hand down the redhead's pants. She was so wet, it had already pooled around her clit - which Maria greedily circled, taking in every sound it produced from the other woman.

The dancer's hands reached down to unbutton her pants, pushing them down as much as possible to grant Maria further access. The second she was able, she slid two fingers deep inside the redhead. "Fuck, yes," she moaned at the intrusion.

"Ride my hand."

She moaned. "Yes, baby. Fuck me."

Nat was exquisite. Maria watched as her tits bounced with each stroke, her hips gyrating deliciously, her face contorting more and more as she edged closer to orgasm. She felt incredible; so wet, so needy.

Nat came with a shuddering gasp, collapsing onto Maria's torso and placing a gentle kiss on her neck before slowly slithering down to tug at her pants. "My turn," she said with a devilish grin.

Maria happily rid herself of her pants and underwear, throwing them off the bed without a second thought.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Maria woke up at 6 a.m., fully sated with a note on her pillow:

_Thanks for last night _  
_Had to go to work, but call me_  
_xx Natasha_

She left her number below her name, along with what looked like the faint imprint of a kiss made with lipstick.

_Natasha, not Nat. Well, whatever her name is she must have left in the middle of the night. _

Maria sighed, reaching to the floor to grab her phone. Three texts from Sharon.

_Sharon __(10:45pm)__: Home safe!_

_Sharon __(10:50pm)__: I left the bar less than 20 minutes ago wtf how_

_Sharon__ (10:52pm)__: I need every detail the second you wake up._

She quickly added Natasha's number to her contacts before she forgot (unlikely, if she was being honest with herself), then called Sharon.

"So? What the fuck happened?" She nearly yelled into the phone. Maria could just picture it: Sharon's partner Steve listening to their call in horror as whatever felon in their back seat laughed at her expense.

"She bought me a drink, we came back here, she left." Her tone dripped boredom and annoyance.

"And…?" Maria could practically see how giddy she was through the phone.

"How old are you? We had sex." Then, quietly, she added, "She left me her number."

"You got her number? Maria! Are you gonna call? You _have_ to. I bet the sex was amazing. I mean, a stripper? Come on."

She ended the call with a forceful, "Bye Sharon." She answered none of her best friend's questions and prayed there would be no return call for more.

The lawyer then opened a new text message to Natasha. She typed and deleted three messages before finally settling on: _Last night was great. Are you free for coffee this week? - Ms Porter_

She busied herself getting ready for her last day of work before the weekend, eventually making her way to the office to catch up on any new delays the defense had decided to contrive. She was grumbling about the sludge that passed for coffee in the break room when a text popped up on her phone. It was Natasha.

_Natasha __(9:05am)__: I just got off work. I usually sleep all day. :(_

_Natasha __(9:05am)__: Dinner?_

_Natasha __(9:05am)__: Also, you're now in my phone as Maria Porter until further notice._

Maria beamed at her phone. She wanted to seem casual by asking for coffee; didn't want to come on too strong or hope for something more than what would be willingly given. But Natasha was absolutely gorgeous…intelligent and funny, too. She wanted nothing more than to take her to dinner.

_Maria__ (9:07am)__: Dinner sounds perfect._

_Natasha __(9:10am)__: Sunday at 8? I'll pick you up._

_Maria__ (9:10am)__: I look forward to it._

After their brief text exchange, Maria Hill was disjointed. She rushed through her paperwork…which only meant it took three times as long as it should have, because she had to re-read and re-write everything three times. She had been looking over the files for potential jurors in a new case for the District Attorney's Office for the last hour, attempting to note who would be their top 3 picks, but it was ultimately fruitless. She needed a walk and some coffee. Sunday could not come soon enough.

Saturday dragged on, too.

Though, she had more of a bounce in her step than usual during her morning jog through the park, she was deeply anxious about the arrival of her date the following evening. She passed by couple after couple and wondered…was she missing something? Was she just terminally, horrendously undateable?

She had a long string of one night stands and casual relationships (otherwise known as: friends she'd occasionally fuck and not regret it). Most women grew frustrated and tired of her within a month. Her schedule just didn't really allow a relationship of any kind; she was always stuck at the office. She was grateful to have Sharon around - whose work schedule was just as hectic, if not more - but still made a point of finding time to hang out as often as possible. Sharon understood how isolating their lifestyles could be. It was difficult to find a therapist, let alone a date, that didn't flinch when she needed to vent about the gruesome details of her whatever her latest case may be.

Finally, Sunday evening rolled around.

Natasha told her to dress casually, so she wore dark wash jeans with tan chukkas and a floral short sleeve button up (the fifth shirt she tried on). She soon opened the door to Natasha, who looked stunning in a skintight striped black-and-white tank top with acid wash skinny jeans and red slip-ons.

"Hi," Natasha said shyly as she handed Maria a single rose that she must have bought at the last minute from the guy always posted outside the subway station. "You look nice."

Maria leaned forward to place a soft kiss on the redhead's lips. "Thank you. So do you."

"I was thinking Thai food and that arcade bar?"

"Oh, that sounds perfect. I haven't been to Barcade since law school. Let me just put this on the counter." She quickly walked away with the rose, not processing the shocked look on Natasha's face.

"You're a lawyer?" She called into the apartment, closing the door behind her.

_Oops._

She popped her head out of the kitchen. "Yeah. For the DA. Is that gonna be a problem?"

"No. You just don't seem like a lawyer. I figured you for more ex-military turned surly office worker."

Maria laughed. "Technically true. I was in the Navy JAG Corps. Ranked up to Lieutenant Commander before I got out." An all-too-familiar look passed over Natasha's face. It was the same one she had used to her advantage in bars through most of her twenties. "If you play nice, I'll find my uniform." She winked, and then said, "Thai?"

The pair made their way to a Thai place one subway stop north, flirting the whole way there. They settled in a booth in the corner of the restaurant and placed their orders quickly.

Maria looked up, her eyes studying the redhead, "Can I ask you something?"

"Bracing for impact, but sure," she smirked.

"Why do you do it? I just…could never. Especially not for men. I can't imagine it's popular with many lesbians."

"I mean, I could also probably never be a lawyer. But my guess is we make about the same at the end of the year. And it's not sexual, not for me…for them, granted, yes. But I could be naked right now and not care. I'd really prefer to not get peanut sauce on my tits, but if the visual helps…" she trailed off, smirking.

"Fair enough," Maria conceded with a laugh.

"But I do get that it's hard to understand. I've had my fair share of exes who made it their personal mission to save me and wouldn't step foot in the club," she rolled her eyes. "My stand up tends to weed those ones out now."

"So, exes." She paused. "By that I assume you mean relationships? Is that…" she trailed off, not sure what she was asking.

"What I'm looking for?" She looked Maria directly in the eyes. "I wouldn't mind it."

They continued on like that for the rest of dinner - endless questions that flowed into endless stories. Where did Maria go to law school? (Brooklyn Law, then the Navy.) Where was Natasha from? (Long answer: Russia. Short answer: Buttfuck, New Jersey…in her words, of course.) Had they travelled? (Maria was stationed in Japan for two years. Natasha spent at least two weeks every year dancing in Europe.) Favorite food? (They both thought for a minute and said chocolate ice cream in unison.)

Their conversation progressed easily. Maria felt like she had known Natasha for years and she had a suspicion that Natasha felt the same.

As soon as they entered the arcade bar, Natasha wagered a bet. "Winner pays for the next date."

"Winner?" Maria confirmed, smiling.

"Do I _look_ like a consolation prize to you?" She snarked.

Maria laughed, placing a kiss onto her date's cheek. "Winner pays. So, what are we playing?"

Natasha dragged her to a skee-ball machine in the back of the bar as soon as they gathered their beers.

Natasha went first. She hit two twenties, a thirty, and the rest were tens. Then, it was Maria's turn. She must have failed to mention to Natasha that in addition to playing softball through high school and college, she spent most nights she wasn't studying at the law library at Brooklyn Law in Barcade playing skee-ball. She sunk a one-hundred on her first throw. The rest were tens.

She started hitting tens when Natasha realized she lost; in retaliation of sorts, she moved as close as possible to the taller woman, distracting her with subtle touches at her hips and back…her hand brushing the brunette's ass whenever she leaned down to grab another ball…both reveling in the suggestion of something more. All Maria could think about was their last night together. She lost all hand-eye coordination, but tried frantically to force herself to focus.

Natasha giggled after her last ball sank to the lowest point, satisfied with her work. She leaned in to the other woman's ear, husking, "Meet me in the bathroom."

By the time Maria processed her words, Natasha disappeared into the crowd. She took a long pull of her beer before abandoning it on the bar and heading for the restrooms. There were two single occupancy restrooms. Taking a guess, she knocked on the locked door.

She heard Natasha's voice faintly call out "occupied," so she knocked again.

Then, the door unlocked. She slid in, barely opening the door, locking it behind her. Natasha immediately had her pinned against the door. "I think I remember saying something about making you come so hard your neighbors hear?" Maria smirked, her knee-jerk sarcasm betraying the arousal she felt. "Got your work cut out for you."

Natasha took it in stride, pulling her in for a kiss as her hands immediately began to work at the button of the other woman's jeans. Her tongue brushed against soft lips, seeking entrance. Maria responded in kind as her hands gripped Natasha's hips, pulling her closer. The redhead shifted slightly, beginning to pepper her throat with kisses; sucking an earlobe between her lips.

"You are so fucking sexy, Maria." She muttered into her ear between open mouthed kisses and bites along her neck.

Maria sighed softly, her head falling back against the door as she pushed Natasha's hands away to open her jeans herself in one swift motion. Natasha smirked into the other woman's neck, briefly stopping her movements to pull a condom from her pocket.

Maria looked at her in silent question. She briefly considered explaining that she spent a full hour before leaving her apartment debating the merits of taking a purse which would contain just two items: a ziploc bag with two black nitrile gloves and her phone, but utimately, she decided it was a jinx and grabbed a condom that could be more easily concealed. She said instead, "Easier to carry...and I know myself well enough to know I was probably going to want to fuck you before the night was over."

Maria seemed satisfied with that answer, because she grabbed the condom from Natasha's hands, ripping it open and throwing the wrapper in the general direction of the trash can.

Taking Natasha's wrist in her hand, she pulled her fingers up to her mouth to place soft kisses on each fingertip. When she made her way back around to the redhead's index finger, she opened her mouth just enough to suck the digit inside - in, out, in, out - circling it with her tongue as she did so. Then, with another soft kiss, she removed the finger from her mouth and began to pull the condom onto her lover's first three fingers.

Natasha quickly slipped her hand into the brunette's underwear, zeroing in on her clit. Circling it slowly before finally settling on a rhythm. Up, down. Up, down. Endlessly, relentlessly...Maria felt Natasha's fingers move deftly across her engorged clit in gentle movements. Up, down, up, down, up, down.

"Fuck," she moaned, her hips grinding urgently against the hand buried in her underwear. Her fingers gripped desperately at the redhead's shoulder.

Natasha pressed a sloppy kiss against Maria's lips. "You're so good. Are you gonna fuck my hand, or will you let me do it myself?"

"You," she sighed, her eyes glazed over. "Fuck me." She tried to still her hips but it just felt _so good_.

The lawyer locked eyes with Natasha as she toyed with her own nipples through her button-up. The added sensation was almost overwhelming. Suddenly she was filled with three determined fingers. She let out a deep moan. She was so _full_.

Natasha pushed the other woman's jeans down as far as she could, desperate to fuck her as hard and deep as their current position allowed.

"More. Please," Maria cried.

Unable to add another finger without stopping, Natasha desperately thrusted her fingers in and out as she began to suck and bite at the brunette's neck - she brought a hand underneath her shirt…scratching at her abs, teasing her nipples. Maria's moans began to come out as animalistic sobs as Natasha teased her further, still fucking her at a searing pace.

"Do you want them to hear you come for me? Do you want them to know whose pussy this is?" She growled into Maria's ear, punctuating each question with a slow, hard thrust.

Maria came with a final gasping moan, biting down onto the dancer's neck. When she finally caught her breath she said, "You're coming back to my place. _Now_."


	3. Chapter 3

Nearly a month had passed since their last date. They had both agreed (in between orgasms) that they were _definitely_ up for another date, but the next day at work Maria was smacked square in the face by an incredibly rude awakening. A brand new case. Double homicide. She had barely seen the outside of her office in weeks.

Every date they attempted to plan, she usually wound up being called away at the last minute. So, they had resorted to texts and the rare phone call or FaceTime session whenever possible. Natasha had made a point of going to bed even later than usual to bring Maria coffee the morning after their first failed attempt. (She came straight from work, looking absolutely dead on her feet but beamed when Maria giggled at the sight of the haphazard redhead standing in her office with an iced coffee. Maria sent her away to get some sleep after a brief make out session and a promise Natasha would bring her dinner, not morning coffee next time.)

This night in particular, Natasha had invited her to another one of her comedy shows. It started at eight. She glanced at the clock. It was 7:30pm and she was only halfway through tomorrow's deposition.

_Shit._ She sent a brief text.

_Maria __(7:31pm)__: I'm swamped. I'm so sorry. _

_Natasha (7:35pm): :(_

_Natasha (7:35pm) It's ok though. I get it. Gotta catch em all. _

_Natasha (7:37pm): Since you still owe me a date, why don't you come visit me at the club tonight? I'll put your 20 toward our next date. _

Maria thought about it for a moment. She wasn't sure if she'd be comfortable. But she also missed Natasha.

_Maria (7:45pm): I'll be there. Probably just after midnight. Cheetahs? _

_Natasha (7:46pm): Yeah, but remember: I'm Anastasia and you don't know me. _

After getting through the rest of her deposition and the second mound of paperwork, she made her way home. It was just past ten when she made it to her couch, setting an alarm on her phone for a quick nap before she needed to get ready to go out.

She eventually decided on a deep navy suit paired with a light blue shirt, red tie, and tan brogues. Spritzing a bit of cologne on her wrists, she dabbed it on her neck to leave the faint scent of Armani Acqua di Gio behind. It was more formal than strictly necessary, but she thought Natasha would appreciate it.

By the time Maria arrived at the club, the sight of pink neon lights visible from a block away, her nerves were bubbling over. She sent a quick text to Sharon before turning her phone on silent and hiding it away in her pocket. The bouncer glanced over her ID and opened the door to let her inside.

It was a full-nude club; women of all shapes and sizes in various states of undress were lit by dim neon fluorescents across the floor. The music was edging on too loud, but Maria feared what she would hear from the men in the crowd if it was any lower. She walked up to the bar.

"Whatever's on tap."

The bartender nodded, passing her a glass of dark beer in exchange for a couple loose bills. She nodded in thanks, turning to find an acceptable seat.

Maria spotted Natasha - no, _Anastasia_ \- the instant she sat down. She was topless, wearing only a lime green wig with a small black g-string and silver platform heels - hovering near a table of college aged men (_boys_, she thought) in the far corner with another dancer, a Latina with dark hair and soft curves, who held a bottle of champagne. She watched as Natasha pulled the woman in for a kiss for the group's entertainment and was hit with a mixture of jealousy and arousal. Natasha broke away from the kiss, then leaned forward to whisper something in the woman's ear - to which she responded with a flirtatious giggle, nodding at the redhead as she tossed her hair.

Moments later, Natasha began to make her way to the corner of the club Maria occupied. As she moved closer, Maria noticed the extra swing in her hips - a show, she was sure, for the men in the club. Her eyes didn't have their usual mischievous glint, neither were they the intense sultry eyes Maria had grown to associate with Natasha in this state of undress. She pitied these men; they had no idea what they were missing.

The woman in question was soon standing above her, a hand on her hip. "You want a dance, baby?" Maria just nodded dumbly in response, unable to tear her eyes away from Natasha's breasts.

_Holy fuck._

Natasha began to roll her hips, pulling the straps of her g-string down and back up again, suggestively revealing her bare labia. She leaned forward letting her breasts hang inches from Maria's face as she trailed a finger down her silk tie, "You gotta pay to play."

Maria fished out the twenty dollar bill she threw in her inner suit jacket pocket for this exact purpose - delicately placing it in the front of her lover's underwear, careful to brush her fingertips against soft skin.

Natasha leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "No touching, sailor," before turning around to roll her hips to the music, pushing her essentially bare ass toward the brunette. Close enough that if the brunette sat up she could press a kiss to the base of her lover's spine. It took all of Maria's control not to pull her into her lap and lavish her. She hadn't truly touched her in weeks and longed for even the most innocent contact. This was going to be _much_ more difficult than anticipated.

The dancer turned languidly; her hips gyrating as she traced her hands over her stomach and breasts, stopping briefly to push her breasts together. She was cat-like as she grabbed Maria by the tie; placing a knee on the left side of the wide chair, the base of her platform heel planted on the chair's right arm. Maria watched, enraptured. She could see the other woman's pussy clearly through the black mesh g-string as it danced in front of her.

Natasha followed her eyes. "See something you like?"

Maria could barely think, let alone speak. All her energy (that wasn't focused on restraining herself from pulling Natasha forward to straddle her face to taste her endlessly) was focused on the pressure building in her clit that she so badly wanted the dancer to relieve.

Natasha shifted; leaning down to whisper in her ear as she rested a hand against Maria's chest. To an outside observer, her finger was toying flirtatiously with the lawyer's lapel, but she was perfectly mindful to brush against the other woman's nipple. "Sometimes when I'm dancing, the men come. Do you want to do that for me, Maria?"

"Yes," she sighed out. Normally, her logical mind would override this - too worried some scumbag defense attorney might be watching - but she threw logic out the window the night she met Natasha.

She felt Natasha's lips against her ear, "Cross your legs, so you can play with your clit. I'll be right here." Then, she leaned back to continue dancing.

Maria was thankful she had chosen a particularly empty corner of the club, because the second her inner thigh hit her clit she knew there was no turning back. The sensation was overwhelming - she hadn't been this turned on in ages. She was desperate to touch Natasha, but focused on what was asked of her; tensing her thighs intermittently, rubbing just right against her clit. She watched intently as Natasha moved with ease to the music, imaging Natasha's hands were her own as they moved over her body: fingers sucking into her mouth, trailing along her throat, massaging her breasts, scratching at her stomach, dipping down into her underwear.

The pressure in her abdomen grew as the frequency of her squeezes increased, desperate for more. Her imagination ran wild…her tongue circling Natasha's clit, diving deep into her core tasting her arousal; Natasha bent over her bed as she drove her strap on in and out of that _perfect_ pussy until she came, screaming her name; Natasha fucking her on the club's main stage, three fingers buried deep in her dripping core…she had what these men never would. She came with a soft, shuddering gasp. Natasha found her eyes in silent question, _you okay?_ She nodded, her cheeks now tinted red with embarrassment at the realization of what she had just done.

Natasha leaned forward to whisper into the brunette's ear, "You're so beautiful." She paused, reveling in the moment. As much as she wanted to stay, she needed to get back to work. She leaned back, positioning herself to sit in the other woman's lap. "I can sit and talk for a few minutes."

They spent most of it quietly ironing out the details of their next date (they'd order pizza at Natasha's the following night as soon as Maria got off work - and Maria _needed_ those heels to make a second appearance).


End file.
